


sail off without a map

by sleeplessthrills



Category: Start-Up (Korea TV), 스타트업 | Start-Up
Genre: F/M, i am sad, so here it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:08:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 17,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27657980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleeplessthrills/pseuds/sleeplessthrills
Summary: From the eyes of Han Jipyeong (plus an alternative route for those in search of one, plus a series of loose ends).
Relationships: Han Ji-Pyeong/Seo Dal-Mi, Han Jipyeong/Seo Dalmi
Comments: 165
Kudos: 318





	1. 1 - 5

**Author's Note:**

> I don't have the heart to rewatch the episodes, so the details might not be right. But I've titled each chapter with which episode these stories take place to give you a better sense of where they are at. And while this fic is technically done, I'll still update this periodically with drabbles which will mostly consist of fluff because I want to give our boy all the happiness in the world.

He thought of her sometimes, in the hustle and bustle of his daily life.

_Is she okay? Does she have lots of friends now?_

But then he quickly tamped it down because thinking of her would bring back other more painful emotions involving Halmeoni that he’d rather bury deep. The shame of having thought so negatively of the one person who had loved him unconditionally, without pretense, was like a ton of bricks that he’d rather have mummified and cremated. He was a child then, and perhaps a child now too - for not having the guts to look for Halmeoni and to verbalize all the apology he’d uttered in his mind a thousand times over.

He wished he wasn’t so terrible at this - at _feelings._

“They’re in the waiting room,” Park Dong Cheon’s voice brought him back to reality. He nodded, gliding towards the door with only his phone in hand, “Fix your collars,” he muttered to Dong Cheon as they walked down the hall to where a few twenty-something engineering fresh graduates were undoubtedly fidgeting nervously, awaiting his arrival.

_Here we go again..._

***

It’s not that Jipyeong enjoyed being so sharp-tongued. Did he get some sort of masochistic enjoyment out of seeing yet another CEO-hopefuls flinch when he pointed out the laundry list of issues in their business plan (or worse - the lack thereof)? Of course not. In his eyes, it’s just yet another unprepared, naive soul who mistakenly thought that the world will be kind to him or her. The sooner they realize this, the better because Jipyeong knew, better than anyone, than no one will look out for you but you; his entire life is a testament to that. So when he presented _fact-based faults_ to these young hopefuls, he wasn’t doing it out of spite or cruelty. He wanted them to quickly realize the ugly truth so that they could either move beyond it or leave.

This was certainly his MO when he was confronted with three, disheveled, plaid-wearing (what is this? The 70s?) engineering graduates and their traffic light-themed business card. Han Jipyeong the Person was the one who came to them, but he couldn’t turn off Han Jipyeong the Investor either.

 _But you need them - him, Han Jipyeong. For Halmeoni. For Dalmi,_ the Person rang in his ears for a split second before the Investor took over and spewed reasons why they wouldn’t ever make it. Because honestly, how could they? He had just witnessed them very easily and willingly giving away their technology to a competitor. How will anyone _this incompetent_ survive?

Walking away without an answer that Halmeoni needed made him feel terrible. This was his once chance of redeeming himself and he had just blown it. _You and your mouth, Han Jipyeong,_ the Person berated as he drove away from the dingy rooftop office.

_What in the world is he going to do..._

***

He took a few deep breaths, taking the few seconds of solitary space inside his beverage fridge of all places to allow his mind to take everything in.

He’s in his apartment, on his birthday, celebrating Nam Dosan, and doing the one thing he’s always wanted to do on his birthday. There’s something cruel about all this - like the universe playing some cosmic joke as a way to remind him yet again that he was alone in this world. That it took some crazy, Korean-drama level convoluted plot for him to get the birthday that he’s always wanted. 

_Fuck you…_ he mentally threw the middle finger to whatever deity was residing up there, taking a deep breath before returning to his seat on the floor.

***

This woman… Seo Dalmi... was certifiably nuts.

He paced and watched her on stage, chosen as a CEO in his company’s annual Hackathon. How did she manage to surprise him at every turn? He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. The Seo Dalmi he’d exchange letters with was a great person and even without having to read her thoughts on paper, he knew that she was special. She had to be with a grandmother like Halmeoni - you couldn’t be raised by a woman like that and _not_ be fucking amazing, but still...

He watched her work with the ragtag team consisting of the three Sans and a woman he learned from Dong Cheon is called Saha. Throughout the Hackathon, he felt something rising within him - an unfamiliar feeling that made him pace nervously from one side of the room to the other, eyes and mind constantly searching for them - for _her._ And when he saw her down the hall, looking visibly jittery from nerves courtesy of the upcoming presentation, he schooled his face into stoic detachment and offered her his advice.

He knew that no one else deserved this more than Seo Dalmi and against his usual nature, he was doing everything he could to make it happen.

***

As he witnessed her spinning in Nam Dosan’s arms, celebrating their well-deserved victory, he felt something entirely familiar creep up. It was something he knew had always been there like a birthmark. But he thought he had successfully removed it; he thought he had made sure that he would have no reason to even think about it anymore. And yet... here he was, acutely aware of the birthmark he thought he has been rid of...

_Longing._

Longing for something that he could never have - like a set of parents who picked him up from school. Like not having to think about where to live once the orphanage deems him old enough to fend for himself. Like friends that he could joke around with without care. Like a sibling who could give him advice whenever he's having a hard time. Like a grandmother who would make up a fake penpal just so he wouldn't feel lonely. Like hot dogs from a neighborhood stall that always smelled so enticingly warm. And now... longing for someone who perhaps could have been his.

Perhaps he should start looking for companies in the business of removing emotional birthmarks too.


	2. 5 - 9

What a fucking  _ day  _ it was - running around as a mentor, seeing her absolutely nail her presentation, having exactly two stolen moments of quietness when he got to witness her peacefully asleep on the beanbag, and having to witness her in Dosan’s arms. “I should’ve told her,” he muttered to himself as he walked down the deserted hallway of his apartment.

“Welcome back,” Yongsil greeted him as he walked in and threw himself to the sofa, allowing his eyes to close for a few moments to block out the weight of the day’s events.

He didn’t even realize he could feel this way again. He’s made damn sure that he could never want for anything and until today, he thought that all needed to do was make sure he could provide the same for Halmeoni.

_ Fuck. _

“While cursing can be cathartic, it is a rather unproductive,” Yongsil’s annoyingly deep voice echoed in the empty apartment. He didn’t realize he had cursed aloud.

“Fuck off,” he said in return.

“While cursing can be cathartic, it is rather unproductive. Would you like me to book an appointment at a nearby kickboxing gym?”

He groaned.

He should’ve told her the truth. Maybe then he would’ve spared all of this - all of these  _ feelings  _ that he’d rather never ever experience again. It would’ve been so simple if he just came out and approached her that night at the networking party and told her that he was the one writing her letters. Then he wouldn’t ever have to cross paths with Nam Dosan and his ragtag team of plaid-wearing buddies. Then he wouldn’t have to possibly compromise his integrity by allowing them to enter Sandbox. Then poor Dong Cheon wouldn’t have to strip shirtless in the middle of Sandbox because he decided to become a mentor. Then he wouldn’t have this suffocating feeling in his chest - like his heart is being squeezed into hapless oblivion. Things would just be so… much… easier.

But then Dalmi would’ve been sad and if he’s sure of anything… it’s that he’d rather feel all this than see her cry.

“Yongsil-ah… book an appointment at the kickboxing gym for tomorrow morning.”

“Looking up limb unboxing videos on YouTube. Please wait for a moment.”

***

He’s said it before and he’s saying it again: Seo Dalmi is nuts.

“Why would you turn down a company like 2STO?” he failed to keep the disbelief out of his voice and to be honest, he wasn’t even really trying either - being less-than-honest about what he thought was never his strongest suit anyhow. But when his eyes met hers, all conviction and unwavering, as she calmly monologued the faith she had in his relationship - ha! - with Nam Dosan, he couldn’t help the stirring in his chest.

_ Is this what it feels like to have someone choose you because they see you? _

It’s odd how he felt so seen despite hearing her list reasons that he knew were entirely lies - lies he’s made up to protect her. Lies that, in some inexplicable way, still allowed her to see him. How did she do that? How did she see through him so easily?

_ It must be genetics. Runs in the family. _

But then he recalled his perfectly-cordial-but-unremarkable relationship with Won Injae, so perhaps it wasn’t anything in her blood after all.

So there’s clearly only one rational explanation: Seo Dalmi is nuts.

***

He stretched his hand, loosening his fingers which had been furiously typing answers to Dalmi’s ridiculous list of questions. He knew that for anyone else, he would never have done this. He wouldn’t even entertain one question sent via text in the middle of the night - there’s a decorum to be followed. But she’s an exception.

_ It’s because of Halmeoni. I’m doing this to pay my debt towards Halmeoni,  _ he told himself as he scrolled through the endless list of questions and answers before hitting send.

When he saw her at the bookstore, looking more confused than anything, he wanted nothing more than to be comforting and kind - perhaps say words that a newbie CEO like her would like to her. But he couldn’t. He just couldn’t. Han Jipyeong was not capable of being less-than-honest - this was something he prided in himself, but with her, he wished he wasn’t so blunt.

Dalmi deserved his kindness, but he knew, more than anything and anyone, that she also deserved the truth. He couldn’t be honest with her about everything else, so he owed it to her to make sure that she heard the truth from him whenever he could, even if it wasn’t so pleasant.

***

“My birthday is on May 7th.”

Those words still rang in his ears, long after he parted ways with her. She’s dangerously disarming, he noted. Being next to her made the air lighter but more difficult to breathe in too. He didn’t understand this paradox and he was tempted to ask Yongsil but figured that Yongsil would just tell him some stupid statistics about the air quality in Seoul. Worse - Yongsil might tell him the truth that perhaps… perhaps he was a little bit in love with Seo Dalmi.

“No no no,” he shook his head, “I told Halmeoni no.”

He drove away, vowing to throw Yongsil in the bin the moment he reached home, hoping he could throw away the truth along with it.

***

_ Blue. _

He watched her walk away from the meeting room, a little in awe. He should be used to this by now, by her ability to surprise and amaze him. And yet, here he was… still reeling in her wake.

His eyes caught the lightbulb in his index finger turn on. He frowned at the damned thing - what a useless piece of technology. Who in their right mind would invest in this?

_ Blank. _

“Seo Dalmi would. She probably agreed to help a friend test this stupid thing,” he mumbled aloud.

_ Blue. _

“Why is she doing this? She doesn’t have time to be worrying about other people.”

_ Blank. _

“But what did I expect? She’s the granddaughter of Choi Won Deok. Of course she’d never say no.”

_ Blue. _

“Team Leader Han, are you ready for the conference call? They’re waiting in the other room,” Dong Cheon’s head appeared on the door.

_ Blank. _

“Can’t believe they have the guts to show up when they haven’t even given us their report,” he mumbled, walking down to the hall.

_ Blank. _

“You know how they are,” Dong Cheon grimaced before asking, “What is that thing on your finger?”

“Something useless.”

_ Blue. _

***

He wanted to keep it. That scrunchie. As a souvenir for a long afternoon drive based on lies that ended up becoming the most pleasant ride that he’s had in a while. But then he saw Dosan at the bike rack and he felt the urge to stake his claim - that before Dosan became someone important to Dalmi, he was important to Dalmi first.

So he went ahead and did the petty thing, driving away with an odd sense of satisfaction that he held on to, no matter how fleeting.


	3. 9 - 10

Tunnel vision. It’s like tunnel vision whenever Seo Dalmi was in proximity. He hated how much he sounded like a stupid love song, but here he was - noticing every little thing about her. How she’d put her hair up in a ponytail whenever she needed to concentrate. How great she looked in white. The sound of her shoes. The drip of perspiration down her temple. It was like nothing else existed whenever she’s around.

“Perfume?”

He looked up to find Dong Cheon looking at him expectantly.

“Huh? No nothing,” he stood up and shuffled his papers.

“I could’ve sworn I heard you say something about perfume…” he heard Dong Cheon mutter as the guy walked the few steps to his own desk.

***

_ “Why can’t it be me?” _

His own voice rang in his ears.

He knew it was unfair to place all of that on Halmeoni, but at that moment, it all came rushing back like a giant wave that could not be stopped.

_ Why can’t it be me that she loves? Why can’t it be me that has a family? Why can’t it be me that has a grandmother who loves me? Why can’t it be me that went to college and started a business with my best friends? Why can’t it be me that went to the beach just because? Why can’t it be me that’s happy? Why can’t it be me too? _

He allowed himself exactly one minute of tears. Just one. One painful minute where he could drown in his feelings, in his sorrow, in his grief for everything that the world - this cruel world - has denied him. One cathartic minute where he could just  _ feel  _ and let his hurt be known, even if it’s to the empty car. One suffocating minute where he allowed his walls to crumble before rebuilding it like he always did. Like he always had to. Because how else would he have survived otherwise? Walls have kept him safe and it will continue to keep him safe.

But the wall he rebuilt this time wasn’t quite so strong. He could feel the cracks, a Halmeoni-sized crack that has re-appeared and would not be able to be sealed back up.

He felt his hand shake when he reached for his phone and began to type.

“Halmeoni, I’m sorry for being angry at you…” 

***

There’s a reason why he never went back - the memory of that tree, that hot dog stall, those  _ letters.  _ It’s cruel to have his happy memory be so closely intertwined with a very painful one. Like the memory of winning his first investing competition was tied to the memory of the orphanage asking him to leave. The memory of being hired as the youngest investor in SH Ventures was tied to the memory of coming home to an empty apartment and the painful reminder that he had no one but himself. The memory of those letters which provided him great comfort was tied to the memory of letting Halmeoni down.

Reading Dalmi’s earnest letter to Nam Dosan was like a punch in the gut but interspersed in all that was longing for a time when he was just a high school student, living in the hot dog stall, penning down the real Han Jipyeong which existed underneath the layers and layers of the prickly exterior that he’s crafted for himself over the years. In a way, this was the last time he could remember having the room to be himself - in that teeny tiny hot dog stall. Those moments when he’d reply to Dalmi’s letters were the few stolen moments where he could just be himself, with all his honest hopes and dreams before they’re crushed by his own pragmatism or reality.

And now… this tree, this place where the hot dog stall used to be... will forever be intertwined with Dalmi… eyes brimming with tears and the memory of him unable to do anything about it.

***

“Dong Cheon-ah, do you know where I could find a plant doctor?” he couldn’t tamp the worry in his voice. He had been pacing for hours, Googling this and that on his phone, asking Yongsil who had been incredibly unhelpful (“Here is a quote about leaves, ‘In every change, in every falling leaf there is some pain, some beauty. And that's the way new leaves grow’”), and out of desperation, he called his assistant.

“Huh?”

“Plant doctor. Do you know any plant doctors?”

“What doctor?”

He closed his eyes and huffed, “Someone who could fix plants. I think my plant is dying,” the frustration and impatience evident in his voice.

“W-what?”

“My plant. It was normal yesterday but now they look droopy,” he eyed the plant, concerned etched on his furrowed brows.

“Droopy?”

“Just go back to bed,” he finally said before hanging up.

The numbers 01:34 AM greeted him when he set his phone down next to the pot. He surveyed the leaves closer. Had he watered it  _ too  _ much? But he followed the instruction given by the lady at the florist.

“This is ridiculous,” he said to the empty room. “What am I doing? Staring at a plant like this.”

He willed himself to walk back to his room and crawled under the blanket, forcing himself to fall asleep.

***

“So what will happen is…”

_ You’re doing great, Dalmi-ssi. _

“...the questions will be asked by a panel of investors...”

_ You have done your absolute best and you will impress everyone. _

“...and as CEOs, your job is to answer those questions to the best of your abilities but…”

_ No one will doubt that you deserve to be here. _

“....right at that table and they’ll be given microphones as well so they could help you,” he paused to survey the small group of relatively nervous-looking CEOs who had congregated before him.

“More than anything,” he allowed himself to look at the one person that he was here for - the person that made him put on this blue t-shirt. “You and your team have done a great job preparing for this day…” he continued to say the words he had been longing to say to her, “Be confident and don’t worry.”

_ I’m here. I’ll always be here. _


	4. 10 - 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the progress of the previous chapters, perhaps some of you know what's coming. I had intended to write more but I just couldn't. So here's a short one for you all.

A castle needs more than just a wall to protect from intruders - it needs a moat filled with sharp stakes and an army of well-trained archers stationed at the top to deter anyone from approaching. So someone is bound to get hurt, whether they’re an intruder or just an innocent bystander.

_ “You were a judge for a Demo Day right before you were transferred to the US...”  _

He’s always known that his mechanism of choice was not one without consequence. He often took pride in it, even. He owed some parts of his success to it too. His sharp tongue. His blunt words. His single-minded dedication to honesty. His no-holds-barred impatience towards mediocrity. It was why he was named the Sharpest Eye in Asia’s Venture Capital by Forbes last year. 

Is he aware of how his words could hurt? Of course. But he knew he was doing it for their own good, which… in his book… means that it was worth saying. It was tough love - the only kind of love he’s ever known. And look at where that got him? A very well-paid job and a pretty nice life by all accounts. If what they want is success, then they should be able to take it - all of it. Nothing comes easy after all.

_ “...it seems that the CEO was Kim Yongsan’s older brother…” _

Staring at the reel of the Samsan Tech celebrating their well-deserved win, the pride he should be feeling for them was overtaken by this gnawing guilt born from a realization that not everyone has skin as tough as steel - as tough as his, wrought by a lifetime of fighting for himself in this lonely world. Not everyone is as strong as he expected and although he stood by what he had said back then (that someone else would have eventually said it if it wasn’t him), someone got hurt. Someone could not take it. Someone did not make it.

He thought his defenses were too good too strong too effective. His castle had always been well-protected, but now… he’s not so sure.

***

His steps were wobbly as he approached the hot dog stall. Inhaling was difficult. Since when had air become so heavy and laced with sharp edges? The pain on his face was nothing compared to the one on his chest.

_ He failed. _

The cheap plastic tables and chairs seemed huge. Hunched over on the table, her movement no longer exuded the strength that it once had and nothing… nothing… has ever been quite as painful as this.

_ He failed her. _

He’s contemplated if perhaps he was a tyrant in his previous life who had committed mass murder. That has to be it. What else would explain the cruelty of fate otherwise? How could a person be so hated by everything and everyone that he’s not allowed to have even a sliver of comfort and joy in this life? 

_ He failed her again. _

Everyone looked to him as someone brilliant - a Genius Investor, the youngest to make Senior Partner in any VC firms in East Asia, bla bla bla. All the accolades felt hollow in the face of this rickety hot dog stall where he was reminded once again that when it came to people he cared about, he could do nothing but fail them.

_ Maybe this is why I’m not allowed to have nice things. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I plan to write along with the rest of the episodes, but I have an ending in mind, which is likely to deviate from what the show is going to give us because I intend to let Han Jipyeong have some happiness.
> 
> Thank you for all the kudos and comments <3


	5. 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My go at giving Han Jipyeong little slivers of happiness that he so so deserves.

It was only when he reached the basement level parking lot when he allowed himself to smile.

He knew, of course, that the promotion was coming. He had known for a month but had not said a word to anyone, per the request of his boss. Eventually, he just kind of forgot and life went on as normal until Dong Cheon burst into his meeting with that ridiculous wreath and the annoying trumpet whistle machine that should never have been invented in the first place.  _ What a nuisance,  _ he thought as he shooed his assistant away. But the truth was happy. Very very happy. This promotion made him the youngest director in SH Venture Capital and in Korea, which was an accolade he didn’t know he wanted until he got it. 

It’s not like he has an aversion to smiling in front of others, but he was used to maintaining this persona that he rarely allowed himself to be that emotive when others are around. But today was an exception. As he walked to his car, he allowed himself to grin and just… smile as broadly as he wanted. He deserved to.

“Halmeoni…” he called, unable to keep the excitement off of his voice.

“Yes?”

“Don’t sleep yet, okay? You have to stay up.”

“Why are you bothering an old woman like me late at night like this?”

He chuckled as he drove away, “What are you talking about? It’s 7:30 PM.”

“Whatever! It’s late for me!”

He let himself laugh, “Could you keep your eyes open for thirty more minutes then? Ask Dalmi-ssi to keep you company.”

“Ha!” she scoffed, “My granddaughter is still in her office.”

“Well… I’ll keep you company then until I get there. Stay awake okay? It’s really important.”

“Fine, fine. Anything for Good Boy.”

He smiled, feeling truly… wholly… content.

***

The lights were off and Dalmi knew that she would be the only one in this entire wing of Sandbox. At 4:00 am, she expected the silence and darkness that greeted her. Still, she walked into her office - the same office that she’s been occupying for a while - with incredible lightness in her steps. It has been a rough year and a half - she’s worked non-stop as COO of Injae Company and to finally be able to lead her own felt surreal. She knew that she deserved this but some part of her wondered if she was doing the right thing - if she’ll be able to pull this off. Their company has a clear vision and goal but she still… she felt as uncertain as she ever was. It was all her now at the helm - no more Han Jipyeong as her Plan B, no more Won Injae as the sole figurehead. It was all her - her vision, her leadership, her heart. Just  _ her. _ And it is fucking terrifying - that was why she gave up on trying to sleep. Before all the madness of the first day of Cheongmyeong Company, she wanted a moment to revel in her insecurities and worries about the future before she had to put on the Seo Dalmi Brave face. That was why she took the cab here.

As she walked closer to her desk, she noticed a package, wrapped in a simple brown paper bag with a red bow. Brows furrowed, she opened the gift and saw a magenta leatherbound journal and a note inside with handwriting she knew by heart.

_ Dalmi-ssi… _

_ You’ve always been the captain of your own ship, but now you have a crew legally bound to follow you. Congratulations. _

She smiled. She’ll be alright.

***

**A series of texts on Han Jipyeong’s phone.**

“Jipyeong-ssi, can I carpool with you home? Halmeoni’s making grilled mackerel.”

“Jipyeong-ssi, do you have time today? I want to pick your brain about this new investor.”

“Jipyeong-ssi, I left a lunch box at your desk. Heat it up in the microwave for exactly 30 seconds before eating and don’t forget to share with Dong Cheon-ssi!”

“Jipyeong-ssi, I’m sorry to ask this but do you have time to accompany Halmeoni to the hospital today? I have a board meeting that I can’t escape ㅠㅠ”

“Jipyeong-ssi, Morning Group is asking for a meeting with us and unnie is insisting we say no. What do you think?”

“Jipyeong-ssi, Chuseok dinner will start at 7:00pm please don’t be late!!”

“Jipyeong-ssi, you left your birthday cake in the fridge. I brought it to the office and had Dong Cheon-ssi share it with everyone. I hope you don’t mind ^^”

***

No phase in his life had ever moved as quickly as the past three years had. If the years of his life were to be divided by colors, this one would be a soothing yellow. To outsiders, things probably seemed the same as ever. He was still busy - busier than ever, in fact. But there was just so much…  _ more. _

More food, for starters. Even when he wasn’t eating at Halmeoni’s, he did not go a day without eating her food whether it be in the form of  _ banchan _ that she sent over (Halmeoni seemed to love talking to the Yongsil in his office whenever she visited - the AI seemed to always understand her better, much to his annoyance) or in the mountain of leftovers that she sent him home with. 

More laughter, too. With Halmeoni staying at home all of the time, she was grumpier than ever, which just made it that much more fun for him. Whenever he visited, she’d complain about absolutely everything (usually as she’s feeding him ridiculous amounts of food) while he’d very weakly try to argue with her. It was just fun… spending time with her at her home.

As he took in his surroundings, seated on the floor of Halmeoni’s house with the mess of the  _ songpyeon _ they made earlier and a very heated round of Go-Stop afoot, he hid a smile behind his cards.

_ More family. No, scratch that. A family. _

***

“Fucking Yongsil,” he muttered to the empty car.

Just when he finally mustered the courage to swing, he was very rudely informed that he lost. That the other had won  _ again _ and that his effort had been moot.

_ Fuck. _

He should be used to this by now. After all, when had her ever gotten his way when it comes to Seo Dalmi? So he should not find this remotely surprising at all.

Yet, the pain currently throbbing in his chest was an indication that some heartbreaks… you just can’t get used to.


	6. 14

_“You’ve never been pathetic.”_

He tried his best to look away as she muttered reasons why she’s a failure, a bad CEO for something she had no control over. Could she have kept better track of her developers and the backups? Of course, but she shouldn’t have to. It was on the tip of his tongue to explain why she _isn’t_ all that she said she is but all he could do was listen. It’s never easy, seeing her this broken. He remembered what it was like three years ago as she watched her try to hide the after-effects of her heartbreak and for a moment too long he had wished that Dosan hadn’t left so that at least… at least Dalmi wouldn’t be sad.

He didn’t know he had it in him to be this protective of anything or anyone. Just listening and hiding under the desk because she had said that she didn’t want anyone to see her like this… who had he ever done this for if not her? It was like some part of him was programmed to put her happiness, her well-being above all others. So when he closed the blinds and turned off the light, he did it without pretense. He just wanted her to be okay.

“Thank you, as always,” he heard her say as he stood by the door and he smiled.

_Enough. That was enough._

***

“I said something that might make him misunderstand our relationship. I’m sorry.”

Inwardly, he cursed at himself for being just so terrible at putting himself first. Why had he called Dalmi so quickly to apologize? Why couldn’t he just be deceitful and let the misunderstanding linger in the air for at least 24 hours?

He knew that the guilt of doing something less than right, something less than _good_ would just eat him alive the longer he let it fester. So he made stupid choices like this, choosing his words carefully in front of Nam Dosan so that Dalmi could get her much-needed (and well-deserved) space.

_Why do you have to be so fucking upright all the time?_

“Our relationship ended three years ago,” he detected the hoarseness in her voice and it crushed him a little but he smiled anyaway, “Thanks for saying that.”

 _You did the right thing,_ he sighed.

***

He walked to his car, mind still reeling from what Yongsan said upstairs.

_They’re not leaving. They’re not leaving. They’re not leaving._

But as he walked closer to his car, what he saw - rather, what he _heard_ \- elicited an automatic smile as he pivoted and approached the yellow vehicle. He leaned down, unable to contain his amusement. This wasn’t the first time that he’s caught Seo Dalmi banging her head against unsuspecting windows out of sheer frustration. He has a very vivid memory of her doing the same three years ago at a bus stop and just like back then, his reaction was the same.

But when she told him the reason for today’s bout of headbanging, all the lightness in his chest vanished. This was, without a doubt, the scenario he least would like to happen when he learned from Yongsan that they were staying in the country. His mind didn’t quite articulate it then, but it was clear now that he did not want this to happen. So badly did he want to just tell her that it would be a bad idea, that he’ll find her three equally brilliant or even more brilliant C-level engineers so that she never had to see Nam Dosan ever again. The part of him that’s been sitting around waiting, watching as the woman next to him put herself back together in the past three years wanted to be selfish just this once and tell her that she should forget about Nam Dosan and choose _him._ That he was the one who comforted her during the hardest times in her life, that he was the one who had supported her without fail, without question, without pretense. That it was him. It _should_ be him. 

But instead, he went for brevity and told her that he was too personally involved to be able to dole out advice - that he was petty that way. He opted to enjoy this rare moment between him and Dalmi where they could just talk comfortably with one another without Halmeoni or anyone else around.

 _Sometimes,_ he realized, _you just take what you can get, even if it’s just a meager three minutes with the woman you love._

***

It would be easy. Oh so easy for him to tell Yongsan with his earnestness and perhaps naivety that no, partnering with Cheongmyeong Company would be a bad idea. That no, working with CEO Seo Dalmi would be absolutely catastrophic. And a part of him knew that Yongsan would take his word for it, though he doubted that the rest of Samsan Tech would do the same. But still… he wanted to and he really could’ve given himself a fighting chance, no matter how small.

But once again…

“As a man, I want to stop you,” he sighed, “But as an investor… I believe you’ll be great partners.”

 _You did the right thing,_ he told himself for the umpteenth time this week. He’s not sure whether this is a Han Jipyeong thing - that it was just in his core to give objective advice at all times - or a Seo Dalmi thing - where he just automatically put her needs and well-being above his, to his own detriment. Either way, he did the right thing and he knew that he’ll do the same thing again and again and again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, this is getting harder and harder to write. The show itself is getting harder to watch, mostly because I hate seeing Jipyeong be strung along for this long :( So for #TeamJipyeong friends out there, hang in there.


	7. 15 - 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Predictably, I was not pleased with how they dealt with his character. For him to have gotten over everything so quickly after being strung along for so long seemed so unjust. So I ended this at the last moment in the show where I felt like Jipyeong's voice needed to be heard.

The thing with sailing off without a map that Nam Dosan does not realize is that it is much easier to do when you know you have a safety net waiting in the form of parents and a place you could call home. It’s a privilege, really, to be that secure to be able to freely go without prior calculations and a clear plan. He knew this better than anyone because, for him, one wrong move meant being out on the street, being without shelter, without safety. So for Han Jipyeong, sailing off without a map is a privilege that he was never afforded.

This was why some part of him hates those letters too. Back then, it was a space that he had given himself to be naive, to be hopeful, to dream. And now, witnessing the exchange between Dosan and Dalmi in this cursed elevator, all he could feel is hatred for those letters again.

Everything would have been easier if he just never allowed himself to hope, to dream. Everything would have been easier if he had just never written those letters. At least that way, he won’t have to watch himself lose to Dosan again.

***

_ This is enough... _ he told himself as he drove away from Dosan’s house in yesterday’s clothes and a pot of plant on the passenger seat. The stench of yesterday’s alcohol was a cruel reminder of everything he had just conceded. But some part of him wondered he hadn’t done this sooner and if he truly ever had anything to concede. If his memory served him correctly, for Dalmi, it was always Nam Dosan and never Han Jipyeong.

“This is enough,” he muttered again, “This is enough.”

_ It has to be. _

***

He was intent on throwing himself into work to distract himself from this ache in his chest when he was stopped in his tracks by Dong Cheon’s words: “Ms. Seo is waiting for you…”

_ Of course.  _

It would be far too much kindness on the universe’s part for Jipyeong to fall in love and have his heart broken by someone who did  _ not  _ work in his office, someone who was  _ not  _ the granddaughter of the only person who he considered his family. “I’d like to review the document in private…” he heard himself say, squashing down the guilt of being  _ this  _ cowardly. But he didn’t care. He didn’t have it in him to put others before him - not this time.

But of course, the universe had other plans and he had to see Dalmi anyway.

So he told her the truth and a lie before walking away, desperately hoping that this ache would somehow lessen because he didn’t know how much more of this he could take.

***

_ “This is her third year. She can handle this much.” _

Injae’s words continued to echo as he walked back to his office. She’s right - that much was clear when he witnessed Dalmi expertly handle that sad excuse of a reporter. And she was also right when she said that he had mixed feelings about it.

He’s been in this suspended state of existence, trying to go on with his life while willing the ache to dissipate. He put up his walls, reinforced them with his usual defenses: work. And he thought that that had worked - he was able to focus on other things that weren’t Dalmi and his unreciprocated feelings, and his chest wasn’t hurting like before - until Dong Cheon told him about the reporter. Before he knew it, he was sprinting across Sandbox.

He wanted to laugh at how pathetic he had been for thinking that he was getting over her in just a few short weeks. He had told her the last time they spoke, he said that he was going to need time because otherwise, it would mean that his feelings weren’t very deep. And this afternoon was a painful reminder of how much he still cares for her.

_ So how am I supposed to go on? _ he wondered, staring out the window, blissfully unaware of his employees whispering in concern.

It didn’t take him long to find the answer. He knew that to be able to fully defend himself, to protect himself, he needed to close every opening - even ones that had become like family.

His jaw hardened as he stood up and packed his things, “Dong Cheon-ah, I’m leaving a little early…”

***

He had always operated with the philosophy of ‘do first and talk never’ - as long as the goal is met, words don’t need to be said. This had served him well in his work because everyone trusted him as someone who would get things done. But he wondered just how much pain he could’ve spared himself had he just  _ talked. _

But now… as he allowed himself to finally, finally be held by Halmeoni’s warm embrace, he understood now… why words, just like actions, matter.

_ “Call me even when you’re doing well.” _

_ “So come and see me often.” _

He’s never had anyone tell him that - that they would like to talk to him just because they enjoy his company, not because they wanted his insight on the latest investment trends. He had told himself that he didn’t  _ need  _ to talk to anyone just because - his time was too precious to be wasted on meaningless conversations. But hearing Halmeoni say that while she clutched his hand, he realized that he had wanted nothing more than this - someone who wanted to listen to him and see him just because.

_ “You shouldn’t get used to being alone.” _

The thing is, he has no idea how else to be. All his life, all he had was himself. He has known no other way than this. He had lived the rest of his life this way, with an abundance of caution when it came to others, relying only on himself and no one else lest he be let down and abandoned once again. It wasn’t until Halmeoni opened up her hot dog stall for him that he had allowed his defenses to crumble by a bit.

And now, just when he was gearing up to fortify his walls after getting his heart broken, she broke down more walls, leaving it irreparably open.

_ “It’s okay. Don’t cry. I’m here for you.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for being along with me in this journey - writing these was a way for me to express the frustration I felt while watching the show, and it's comforting to know that I'm not the only one in this boat (#TeamJipyeongForLife!!!).
> 
> The following chapters will be an alternate version of the ending - or how I imagine things could have gone if Jipyeong wasn't fated to be the second lead.
> 
> Once again, thank you for reading and commenting <3


	8. Alternate Route, Part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now, for a little re-routing...

“I’m sorry...” he hated how shaky - how  _ feeble _ \- he was sounding but he couldn’t help it. Whatever mechanism which had regularly kept him from expressing his emotions too blatantly had just been shattered the moment he heard Dosan asked for his help. He ran right over to her stall, trying to maintain some semblance of calm and composure but the tears would not stop. The stinging pain on his face was nothing in comparison to the one currently crushing his chest, making it more difficult to breath as he choked back his sobs.

“Why are you apologizing? What could a Good Boy like you have done wrong?” the concern in her voice was palpable, despite the gruff tone that she took on. He could feel her pat his back soothingly as he buried his face on her shoulders. Her frame seemed so much smaller now that he’s holding her like this. How did she seem so strong before? How had he not noticed?

“I’m sorry…” he whispered again.

“Yah!” he felt her slap his back and he recoiled from the pain. Halmeoni’s slap was a thousand times more painful than Nam Dosan’s punch. “Why do you keep apologizing? Why won’t you answer when I ask you?” she glared as she winced in pain, “Who beat you up like this? Huh? Who is the bastard that would hurt a Good Boy like you?”

“I wasn’t beat up!” he protested at the insinuation, “It was a mutual… a mutual brawl.”

She eyed him suspiciously, “I hope the other person’s bruise is as nasty as yours. Sit down over there,” she walked towards the truck. He obediently planted himself on the plastic chair, now fully feeling all the aches from this afternoon’s clash and Halmeoni’s mean hand just now. He noticed the metal money box on the table and the receipt that she had asked Yongsil to read earlier and his heart cracked a little wider When she came back with a box of first aid, he was on the verge of tears again but quickly steeled himself to calmly ask her about her diagnosis.

“Why didn’t you tell me about your eyes?” his voice came out much harsher than he intended.  _ Well… so much for being calm,  _ he thought to himself.

“How…” she looked taken aback but immediately adopted her normal tone, “Why do I have to tell you?”

He sighed, impatient, “Because! I can help!”

“I don’t want your help!” she dabbed antiseptic on his face.

“But I want to!”

“You don’t need to. Besides, why are you helping other people when your life is a mess? Look at you getting into a fight like thugs.”

He winced, “Let me be a good boy, and help you.”

“Please…” he added, his eyes pleading in desperation.

_ Let me help you the way you helped me. _

***

One benefit of the whole fake identity and letter thing being out in the open was that now he could talk to Dalmi without burden. He was especially glad that he could talk to her about Halmeoni’s situation. The two spent time convincing Halmeoni to go to the doctor (Halmeoni fussed and complained all the way to the hospital and was far too smug when the doctor told them what she had already told Halmeoni) and it slowly became a shared responsibility between the three of them: Dalmi, Dalmi’s mom, and him.

“Dalmi-ssi, I know you feel uncomfortable with me but I hope you will let me take care of Halmeoni,” he had told her while standing outside her house. They had just returned from the hospital a few hours ago. “Halmeoni…” he took a deep breath, “She’s… she’s the only family I have.”

Dalmi nodded slowly, “I understand. I’ll learn to get used to it, Team Leader Han. Don’t worry about me.”

“Good. Thank you. I appreciate it.”

They stood in silence for a few beats before he blurted the question he had wanted to ask for the past month, “Are you okay?”

She looked at him, confused.

“You know… since Samsan Tech…” he trailed off, noticing the hardness returning to her face.

She gulped and nodded a little too enthusiastically, “I’m alright.”

“Dalmi-ssi.”

“I’m not okay,” she corrected. She closed her eyes and muttered to herself, “Why am I so honest with you?” 

He smiled, “I’m glad you are. Please continue to be honest with me.”

“Okay.”


	9. Alternate Route, Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How I wish things had gone during those three years - Dalmi not being passively in love with a guy who truly needed a lot of growing up, Jipyeong being given the real chance and family that he deserved.

One would think that once the guy on the other side of your love triangle is out of the picture, you would seize the opportunity and swing. Right?

But one was not Han Jipyeong and Han Jipyeong did not swing.

***

“Team Leader Han…”

He looked up to find Dalmi standing by his desk. She looked a little rough for wear, which was expected since he knew that Injae Company had taken on another big client and the team has been working non-stop. Ever since joining her sister’s company, Dalmi had played an integral part in the company’s expansion. As a result, for the past year, he’d seen her flourish into the leader that he’s always known she is and he could not be happier.

They have dinner together once a week, every Friday night, which was when he would come over and be fed a ridiculous amount of food by Halmeoni. This was usually followed by some kind of outdoor excursion on Saturday morning since Halmeoni insisted that she wanted to see the world as much as she could while she still can. Jipyeong was never much of an outdoors-man but he had been on more hikes in the year than he had in his entire life. Outside of that, he’d see her in passing around Sandbox. They’d exchange the casual texts here and there, her asking for his advice and him asking her about Halmeoni. Since he was no longer her mentor, she never came to his office, so seeing her in front of his desk was quite surprising.

“Seo Dalmi-ssi…” his brows furrowed in confusion. 

“Team Leader Han…” she repeated, “Are you free for lunch today?”

He looked at his calendar and winced at the series of meetings he had lined up that afternoon, but thankfully, his lunch was clear. “Yes,” he answered.

“Let’s go then,” she gestured towards the door.

Though still confused and unsure, he followed anyway and let her walk them to a very familiar joint nearby.

_ Bibimguksu. _

“Two bowls of  _ bibimguksu _ please,” she ordered as he set his suit jacket on the empty seat.

He hadn’t been here since that afternoon where he confessed his feelings to her. It was the first time he’d taken such a leap and it seemed to have… fizzled (?)… rather remarkably. So he hasn’t been able to bring himself to eat here again, despite how much he enjoyed the noodles.

“Is something wrong?” he asked, noticing how calm the woman across from him seemed, just pouring water onto the provided metal cups.

“Nothing’s wrong. We’re just eating lunch. That’s okay right?”

He nodded, still unsure, and accepted the chopsticks she handed over.

Under some other circumstances, in a different universe where the whole letter-identify-switch thing hadn’t happened or where he had signed the letter as Han Jipyeong instead of some random kid on the newspaper, he would have been ecstatic to be having lunch with her like this. He could not count the number of times he wished he could enjoy meals with her, just the two of them. This past year, he had wondered if it was alright for him to extend a lunch invitation like this. But he just didn’t know if he could - if he  _ should _ .

He knew how heartbroken she was when Nam Dosan and the rest of the Samsan Tech crew left. She had made the right decision for everyone but still, he knew heartbreak when he saw one. So instead of sweeping in, he chose to give her what she needed: space. He let her drown herself in her new job and her grandmother, and kept his own selfish desire to pursue her in check. It didn’t matter that he wanted to be able to talk to her, have meals with her every day. Whatever Seo Dalmi needs, he’ll give it to her - even if it wasn’t him - because, at the end of the day, he just wants her to be happy.

And right now, he wondered if she was happy to be sitting across from him in this noodle restaurant.

“You’re making me nervous,” he said.

“Me?” she looked taken aback, “Why?”

“This is just unusual - you inviting me to lunch like this…”

She nodded, “Don’t be nervous. It’s just lunch.”

When she smiled, Jipyeong automatically smiled too.

Moments later, two bowls of  _ bibimguksu  _ were placed between them and she began to mix hers. “So… Team Leader Han…” her movements looked practiced, almost expert-like. It was quite mesmerizing to watch. “Would you be alright if we speak casually outside of work?” she asked.

“Eh?”

Of all the things that he expected her to say, this was the one he never saw coming.

“It’s weird to address you as Team Leader Han when we’re at home. So can we speak  _ banmal _ when we’re not in the office?” she continued to mix.

Jipyeong was still in shock but managed to utter a strangled, “Okay.”

She looked up from the bowl, looking quite pleased, and pushed the perfectly mixed bowl of  _ bibimguksu  _ his way, “Great.”

***

Their relationship had evolved into something he could not quite explain.

Aside from speaking casually whenever they’re not at work (he had not known that he was the kind to ever blush at the sound of someone calling him ‘oppa’ until a few months ago’), lunch at the  _ bibimguksu _ restaurant had turned into a weekly affair that he looked forward to every Wednesday. It was during one of those lunches that she went for the jugular and began to address one of the many elephants in the room.

“Was it real - everything in the letters?”

He had always thought that this conversation would be a stiflingly difficult one, but he was glad that they were able to talk about this more casually even though there was an unmistakable weight to her words.

“Aside from the name, yes.”

“How much of it was Halmeoni?”

“The first two or three letters... maybe 70%? But after that, it was me.”

“So your birthday wish is really to just play Go-Stop?”

He nodded, “You kind of nailed it last year - what you said in my apartment when we played with the Samsan Tech guys,” (she stopped flinching at the mention of Samsan Tech, which was the progress he was happiest with), “I never had a family or anyone to play Go-Stop with. And it just seemed like something you only do with your family.”

She nodded, looking deep in thought before saying, “Your handwriting is reaaaaaaaaaally really neat. I thought it was a girl’s handwriting.”

“Thank you?”

“I have never met anyone with penmanship as nice as yours. Seriously. How do you write so consistently? Are you a robot?”

He laughed, “Your handwriting is a reflection of your mind, haven’t you heard of this saying?”

“What are you implying?”

He didn’t even attempt to suppress his dimples from appearing, “Nothing.”

“Einstein’s handwriting was horrible, you know.”

“Really?”

“Hold on let me show you,” she typed away on her phone while he continued to enjoy his noodles.

“Huh.”

He looked up, a triumphant smile, “Let me see.”

“It doesn’t matter,” she put her phone down, “We were talking about you and your identity theft.”

He balked, “I only used his name!”

“Identity theft is not a joke, Jim!”

He paused, “Jim?”

Now it was her turn to balk, “The Office? Dwight?”

He shook his head.

“Wow,” she set her chopsticks down, “You’ve never watched The Office?”

“Is it like  _ Misaeng _ ?” he mentioned perhaps the only drama he’s ever watched, and that was only because one of the Executive Producers of the show was a friend from university.

She shook her head dramatically, “Do you ever do anything  _ but _ work?”

“I’m eating lunch with you, aren’t I?” he offered.

Now she looked determined, “We need to introduce you to the world outside of start-ups and revenues and whatever else it is you venture capitalists do.”

He couldn’t look upset even if he tried because interacting with her like this, like  _ friends,  _ was putting him in an incredible mood. So he shrugged and said, “Sure.”

***

In addition to  _ bibimguksu  _ Wednesdays and Friday night dinners, they now have another Saturday morning tradition since he almost always stays over after dinner.

“It’s like Saturday morning cartoons,” she explained, “But for adults.”

He frowned, “That… sounds vaguely dirty.”

She blushed and shook her head, “You know what I mean. Just focus and watch. This is the episode where the show finally picks up.”

He never cared much for television or movies since growing up, those were things that necessitated money, which he never had. And when he  _ did  _ have money, he was too busy focusing all his energy to continue to earn said money. As a result, when everyone went crazy over the latest Marvel movie release (Boss Lady had gotten everyone a ticket to the premiere), he stayed at home and let Dong Cheon take his ticket. He probably spent that evening just reading or catching up on the news. When he relayed all this to Dalmi, who - once again - was baffled that he could not say a single Marvel movie title, she concluded that he was living the life of an old man and needing to be shown the world.

“I’ve actually  _ seen  _ the world, you know. I travel a lot,” he protested.

“For  _ work. _ ”

“Point taken.”

So while he never cared much for this particular form of entertainment, he dutifully participated in their Saturday morning TV time because it meant more time with Dalmi, which was  _ his  _ favorite form of entertainment. She was 100% more fun to watch than whatever alien superhero thing was flying around on the screen.

For one, there’s her eyes - her very very expressive eyes which could tell him a whole lot more than her words ever could. Whenever she came back after meeting Saha, there was always a tinge of sadness in them. She had told him that Saha showed her Chulsan’s latest vlog and when he watched the video himself, he understood.

_ This _ was why he wasn’t pushing for more than what he could get right now because he didn’t want her eyes to tell him that she didn’t feel the same way while her mouth says something else.

So he chose to continue to do whatever he could to keep those eyes bright and happy - even if it meant sitting through hours upon hours of movies or shows he did not care about in the slightest.


	10. Alternate Route, Part III

This was his first big project since he was made a director. Boss Lady had given him a chance by taking on this start-up which everyone had dismissed. But something about the CEO just unsettled him and while that usually sent him packing to the other direction, for some wild reason, he had found himself convinced by their talk of revolutionizing the industry with their algorithm. He had fallen for the classic trick in the book. So when Dong Cheon called to tell him the news patent infringement lawsuit, he laughed.

“Uh… are you okay?”

He laughed even harder, “Of course. I’m okay, Dong Cheon-ah. I’m okay. See you at the office.”

For the next week, it was meeting upon meetings where the conclusion was largely the same: he should’ve done a more thorough job of vetting. In his thirty-something years of existence, careless was not something he had ever been called, and yet this week, he had heard this word in association with him far more often than he could count - most of which was coming from himself. They say you are your worst critic and for him, he was his worst companion too. When he wasn’t at meetings, getting reminded of his own mistake over and over and over again, he was alone in his penthouse apartment, speaking to Yongsil who was, as always, incredibly unhelpful and kept recommending random products instead. By the fourth day, Dong Cheon had looked downright terrified to talk to him but the younger analyst had no choice but to deliver updates.

The last thing he wanted to do was be unfair to anyone - it wasn’t their fault that he messed up and he shouldn’t take it out on them. So he kept it all to himself, limiting the expression of emotions to his face and nothing else. For him, it was easier to brood in private. It was what he was used to. But it didn’t mean that it made anything easier. As the week progressed, he continued to feel worse and worse. So when he arrived at the  _ bibimguksu  _ restaurant on Wednesday, the wince etched on Dalmi’s face was not at all surprising.

“Sorry I’m late,” he muttered as took a seat across from her. 

“What happened?” she asked. He knew that Dong Cheon had filled her in when he asked the guy to tell Dalmi that he’ll be missing their lunch. But he supposed that she deserved to hear it from him directly too - he had missed Friday night dinner after all and he had not replied to Halmeoni’s curt, inquiring text message about it.

But instead of answering her, he found herself just… ranting, “I deserve this,” he felt himself getting worked up all over again, “I deserve all of this for being so gullible and stupid. Why didn’t I check the patent office in Argentina?” he began. “I’m a Director now, not some Junior Analyst,” he huffed after finishing his five-minute tirade against himself and the week he’s had. When he looked up, he found her staring back at him, the expression on her face completely serious and perhaps angry?

“No one who has spent at least five seconds with you would ever call you gullible - stupid, maybe--” she smirked as he balked at the teasing, “--but not gullible.”

“And that CEO was operating in bad faith and you know it. Sure, maybe you should’ve checked with the patent office in Argentina but you didn’t. People make mistakes, even the great Han Jipyeong. It happens,” she held his gaze, fierce and unwavering. “And don’t just disappear on us whenever you’re having a hard time. You told me that you want me to think of you when I have a hard time, right? Well… I’m asking that you do the same too,” she concluded.

He sat there, unable to formulate a verbal response or summation on how he was feeling. He found himself in this position more and more lately, especially where Dalmi is concerned. He shouldn’t be surprised that  _ this  _ was how she was going to respond to one week of no communication, and yet he was taken aback anyway. No one had quite ever been this fierce in caring for him.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” she looked taken aback - maybe she was expecting him to be more defensive and upset.

So he smiled, “Okay.”

***

“I cannot believe you cooked grilled mackerel without me,” he pouted when Dalmi’s mom informed him of what he missed out on last Friday. Next to him, Halmeoni slapped his back with the rice paddle, “Who told you not to come? And why do I have to cook grilled mackerel just for you? I like them too! Dalmi likes them too!”

“I was upset…” his voice was quieter at the admission and in response, Halmeoni just slapped him again with the rice paddle, “You should eat when you’re upset. Who told you to just hide in your apartment?” He relented and nodded to calm the woman down - he was worried about a distinctly rice paddle-shaped mark appearing on his back tomorrow if he kept arguing with her like this. She may be old but slowly losing her eyesight, but she was still scarily accurate when it came to slapping his back.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Dalmi smirk - satisfied that Halmeoni was continuing to needle him about how he had behaved last week. In his defense, he’s never really had anyone he could turn to for things like this. All his life, it has always been Han Jipyeong and Han Jipyeong alone. When he was having a hard time in school, he could only turn to himself for comfort. When he was kicked out of the orphanage because he was too old to stay, he turned to himself to find a solution. When he was stressing out over his first investment at SH Venture Capital, he paced around in his very tiny apartment on his own. So this expectation - this  _ ability _ \- to turn to others for comfort was new to him.

“If you do this again, I’ll hunt you down,” the old woman threatened and he laughed, squeezing her shoulder affectionately. “I’ll make sure to move to a new place if I ever want to disappear again,” he scooted away before the rice paddle could attack him again.

“So does this mean your streak is broken?” Dalmi asked, a glint of mischief in her eyes.

He set his spoon down on the table and groaned, “Why do you have to say that?” But the smile on his lips betrayed his attempt to be stern. He spent the rest of the evening being teased by the female members of the Seo clan (Dalmi’s mom’s jabs were surprisingly sharp despite the gentle tone of voice she adopted) and he did not mind it one bit.

***

A few weeks later, he knocked on Dalmi’s office door to inform her that he won’t be able to make it to their  _ bibimguksu  _ lunch.

“Did another one of your investments fail?” she inquired, half teasing and half worried.

He smiled, finding her teasing and concern incredibly endearing. “No, no. Someone from a foreign VC firm is in town and is looking for a local partner. Turns out, we were at M25 together,” he explained.

At this, she looked relieved and nodded. “Good luck,” she said before he walked back to his office to prepare for the meeting.

When he returned later that night, he found a bag of  _ bibimguksu  _ on his desk with a note, which read:

_ Photo proof required. _

He laughed, recalling how the last time she had left food on his desk, he had forgotten and left it at the office overnight, stinking up the entire room. Dong Cheon - bless his soul - had mentioned it to her when she asked why they were evacuating to a meeting room for the day. She was instantly apologetic (towards his team) and upset (at him). He had found her mix of emotions to be endlessly amusing.

On another side of town, Dalmi was frowning as she read the report that she was preparing for Injae when she heard her phone vibrate.

‘Proof 1’ - it was a picture of a hand holding a very familiar brown paper bag. She chuckled and sent a thumbs-up emoji in response.

A few minutes later, another message came.

‘Proof 2’ - the same paper bag was now in the passenger seat.

She rolled her eyes and decided not to dignify his teasing with a response.

Thirty minutes later...

‘Proof 3’ - a bowl of  _ bibimguksu _ .

Fifteen minutes later…

‘Proof 4’ - an empty bowl.

She smiled and replied: ‘Good job~ Goodnight!’


	11. Alternate Route, Part IV

For someone who thrives on being prepared at all times, for any and all possible circumstances, Seo Dalmi was the one person who managed to surprise him at every turn. From their first interaction in those letters, she took him by surprise when she offered him companionship that he hadn’t been willing to admit that he needed. When they met again as adults, she showed him that it was possible to be impossibly brave while being vulnerable at the same time. She has made difficult decisions with the kind of conviction only seen in professionals in the field while also managing to be fully human. That was a balance that Jipyeong didn’t know was possible until he met her. She surprised him again when he realized that he was capable of having feelings this deep for someone else. In a way, he had surprised himself too and it was all because of her.

***

“Jipyeong…”

He had never heard her sound this hoarse and he could hear the panic on the other line, “Are you okay? What happened?”

“Ransomware attack. They’re--”

“I’m on my way,” he said before running out of the room and sprinting across to her office. When he arrived, ID lanyard on his back and hair windswept, he found her biting her lips, hair absolutely disheveled, and eyes watering.

“How much are they asking for?” he asked the employee seated by the computer. Before the guy finished explaining, he was already immediately calling Sandbox’s security office. The next two hours went by in a blur of phone calls - him, Dalmi, and Injae were reaching out to everyone they could think of. Throughout it all, they stood close, him squeezing her shoulder for support as he spoke in rapid-fire speed to whoever was on the other land. He made sure to keep his eyes on her too, sending her assuring nods as she sought comfort in him, biting her lips in worry while waiting for the other line to pick up. 

He was on the phone with his college buddy who was a lead engineer at Foxconn when he saw Nam Dosan walk into the room.

“Hello? Are you there?” he vaguely heard his friend call out.

He looked to Dalmi who seemed similarly shocked.

“Jipyeong-ah? Helloooo?” his friend’s voice came into focus and he turned his attention back to the phone, though he was stopping himself from looking at Dalmi for fear of what he might see.

As much as he wanted to just leave, he couldn’t. So for the next few hours, he found himself inching further and further away from the circle of people around the desk Dosan was occupying. He kept his eyes trained on everything that wasn’t Dalmi, though he noted her shifting and pacing from his peripheral vision. When they successfully recovered their data and everyone celebrated, he was halfway towards the door. He was about to walk towards Dalmi who was currently slumped on her desk, relieved and smiling along with everyone else, when he saw Dosan staring at Dalmi in a way that he was all too familiar with.

He knew things weren’t like they were back then. His relationship with the Seo women (Injae was still a Won, but in his mind, she’s a part of the Seo clan anyways) was great. He sees them on a regular basis, a few times in a week. With Halmeoni, their relationship was just as it had always been - mostly teasing and laughing. With Dalmi, however, he’s never really sure. A part of him was afraid to be sure, in case it wasn’t the kind of sure he was hoping for. So he let their relationship linger in this stage of friendship - if one could call weekly lunches and dimples galore anytime a message from her arrived friendship. He wasn’t sure how much longer this stasis could last - he knew it had to end eventually, but he was hoping its end would have nothing to do with Nam Dosan. If he didn’t swing for three years for fear of not getting a home run, he definitely wasn’t sure he could swing  _ now  _ that Nam Dosan was here.

So he turned around and walked away.

***

He was avoiding Seo Dalmi and he was quite proud of how well he was doing this considering that they work in the same place and with the same people. He’s truly mastered the art of pantomiming a meeting and a phone call before speed walking towards the other direction, dragging whoever the unsuspecting person was nearby. He had gotten exceptionally good at pretending not to be home too (all he had to do was remain in his bedroom and turn off all the other lights in the house). Dong Cheon’s skill of making excuses for why he wasn’t at the office and for why he was not answering his phone has vastly improved (yesterday’s excuse was that Jipyeong had a meeting in Jeju Island, which was a brilliant move on Dong Cheon’s part because Dalmi couldn’t very well afford the time to fly there and hunt him down), which helped him successfully avoided any interaction longer than a few minutes with Dalmi.

He knew he was being really pathetic and downright embarrassing but he didn’t have it in him to face her. Not yet.

Even though she never outright rejected him per se, she practically did - which was something he was probably still processing in his subconscious. It took her a long time to reach out after Nam Dosan left and while he would not trade the past few years, it did confirm that she didn’t like him back - that she had chosen Dosan over him, that the Nam Dosan in those letters lost out to the real Nam Dosan. So could anyone blame him for being so afraid now that the actual human Nam Dosan is back?

_ What chance do I have now? _ He sighed.

“There is 85% percent chance of rain tomorrow. It would be wise to bring an umbrella,” Yongsil’s deep bass echoed in the empty room.

But of course, Seo Dalmi would not be the granddaughter of Choi Won Deok if she was not persistently banging on his front door at an ungodly hour the next morning.

He trudged out of his room, maneuvering his way through the dark living room until he reached the front door. He knew that this would not last forever, but now he knew that two missed Friday dinners were the limit.

“I can see your shadow. Open up!”

He winced, bracing himself before opening the door.

“I can’t believe you,” she barrelled straight past him after sparing one very sharp glare his way, “A meeting in Jeju?”

His chest squeezed at the hurt in her voice as she continued to throw the list of the pathetic excuses he’s used these past few weeks.

“Yeah okay. Peanut allergy was a bad one,” he grimaced.

Her glare was sharp and immediate - she clearly was not in the mood for any form of levity.

“Do you know how worried I’ve been? That you’ve worked yourself to death?” she began, “Did I hurt your feelings? Are you mad at me? Why are you avoiding me?”

He struggled to answer. No matter which way he reworded it, the answer to her question just sounded so pathetic.

“Is this because of Nam Dosan?”

When he said nothing and he saw her shoulder visibly relax.

“What did he do?” she asked, sounding less upset.

“I heard he’s staying for good,” he hated how petty and childish he sounded but he couldn’t help it. Dong Cheon had mentioned it in passing and it unleashed every fear he’s had in the last three years.

“Yes. The Samsan Tech guys are starting their own company,” her voice was too upsettingly level, which upset him.

“They would be great CTOs for Cheongmyeong,” he remarked bitterly. He knew that they were in desperate need for C level employees to fill the space left behind by the twins who betrayed them for Morning Group. His initial impulse at the news was to send a stack of CVs of  _ other  _ candidates for the position, but stopped himself because he knew that the Samsan Tech guys were the obvious choice despite how much the idea gave him heart palpitations and raised his blood pressure.

“Really? You’d be okay with them joining Cheongmyeong?”

“Yes.”

“Even if it means I work with Dosan every day?”

He gritted, “Yes.”

“Why?”

He sighed, “Because… as much as I want to be selfish… they would be a good match for you and your company. They’re really great engineers and you guys work together well.”

“What would the selfish you say?”

Perhaps it was the exhaustion of avoiding her for two weeks or the anxiety of anticipating getting his heart broken again or some combination of the two, but he found himself answering honestly, “That I don’t want Nam Dosan anywhere near you.”

She was silent for what felt like an eternity. The room suddenly felt far too small and too hot, and he wanted to desperately leave. He’d really like to not have to be rejected and have his heart broken to a million pieces in his own living room. But how could he get Dalmi to leave? Or at least move this conversation to the lobby or something.

“Then be selfish.”

This was not what he expected her to say, “Huh?”

“Be selfish. Tell me that you don’t want Dosan near me and that you’ll help me find other C-level candidates.”

He noted the conviction in her eyes and how unwaveringly firm she sounded, looking up at him with her big brown eyes, and found himself speechless.

He thought back to the conversation he had with Halmeoni not too long ago where the woman asked him point-blank: “How much longer are you going to keep her waiting?” He had looked up, startled at the question, and was grateful that the woman was not able to see  _ too  _ clearly because she would have seen how flustered he was by the implication of her words. “You said you have feelings for her,” she continued.

“I do,” he had answered quickly -  _ too _ quickly, perhaps. So he sighed, “But… I don’t know if this is the right time. She was really hurt by what happened with Nam Dosan and Samsan Tech and…” 

“That was three years ago.”

“Still…” he sighed, “She really… she was really hurt when he left.”

He felt Halmeoni’s hand resting on his shoulder but he didn’t dare to turn and look at her. More than anyone else, she knew him. She knew him best and she knew the depth of his feelings without him ever having to say it.

“Jipyeong-ah…” she began, “What are you scared of?”

His fingers stopped moving and he let his eyes wander away as he sought to verbalize this…  _ thing _ … that has been haunting him for the past three years. This  _ thing  _ that perhaps no other human has ever heard beside himself when he’s on one of his rants with a very annoying (but thankfully patient) Yongsil.

“I don’t want to be second, Halmeoni. I’ve never been one and this is the one time I really do not want to be one,” he finally said, suddenly enveloped by the gnawing insecurity and fear that’s been festering inside him. He didn’t want to be a second choice and he especially did not want to be Dalmi’s second choice because, more than anything, she deserved the absolute best - even if it wasn’t him.

That was why he had readily and immediately accepted defeat when he saw her so broken after Dosan left, giving her nothing more than what he thought she was ready for instead of pursuing her. He had told himself that he was content as long as she was happy. If all he was going to get was a relationship based around Halmeoni, then it was enough.

But she had surprised him at the  _ bibimguksu  _ place, which was the beginning of their Wednesday lunches. She had surprised him when she told him that he should just leave a set of toiletries behind since he always spent the night after their Friday dinners. And now, she surprised him again - perhaps more than he’s ever been - by her request.

_ Does this mean... _

He shook his head before he let himself hope. “But really…” he began, “Those guys are the best choice for you, given their experience and their profile since they worked for 2STO and--”

“Stop being my mentor and just be you. As selfish as you want to be.”

He began but was unable to formulate the words. He’s never been able to verbally, loudly say all these things - his honest to goodness true feelings - that he found himself struggling to say them. He was so used to saying the rational,  _ correct  _ things that he just didn’t know how to be anything else.

“Please?”

There was something in her voice that made him close his eyes for a moment to gather his resolve. “Don’t hire them. I’ll find you the best damn C-level employee in this entire continent. They won’t be as good and you may not be able to work as well with them, but I’ll help you with whatever shortcoming they may have. I’ll find other investors so you can expand your team. Whatever you need. Just…” he paused.

“Choose me,” his voice was barely above a whisper.

She smiled as she said, “I did. I do.”

He said nothing, half surprised and confused.

“ _ Bibimguksu,  _ remember?” she added.

And for the umpteenth time, Seo Dalmi caught him by surprise when she tiptoed and kissed him on the lips.


	12. Alternate Route: Epilogue

“ _Bibimguksu?”_ he asked when they came up for air. They had moved to the couch and she was currently tangled in his arms.

“I don’t think I knew at the time, but in retrospect, that was the beginning for me,” she was distracted by the feel of his hair on her fingers that she didn’t notice his brows furrowing, “But that was such a long time ago.”

“I know. You’re really slow with these things. I thought it was pretty obvious when I told you to just leave your toothbrush at the house.”

“You mean you don’t do that with all your male guests?” he teased before quickly frowning, “Actually no. Please don’t do that with anyone else.”

The sound of her laughter brightened up the entire room and he pulled her even closer, thoroughly enjoying the fact that he could now do this.

Sometime later when they’re standing over a boiling pot of water, he turned to her and said, “Actually, you really should hire the Samsan Tech guys. They’re one of the best in the business and you guys work well together. It would be crazy not to.”

She rolled her eyes, “Could you stop being a mentor and just be my boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend?” he was smiling, dimples and all.

She turned to face the stove in an attempt to hide the flush on her cheeks, “Yes.”

He leaned forward and kissed her, “I like the sound of that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...and done!
> 
> Thank you for being along on this ride with me. Start-Up was truly one hell of a drama in terms of the emotional journey it took me on. I have a little bit more Jipyeong x Dalmi left in me, so I'm writing another story about them where they get to just be people without the confusion of the letters - you can check them out [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28049556)!


	13. Loose Ends, Part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! I have more of this alternate Jipyeong x Dalmi left in me, so here it is! I have no idea how much I'm going to write, so I'm taking it as they come.
> 
> Enjoy!

Between the two of them, he thought it would be her that would break and accidentally tell everyone of their new status - after all, she was the one more prone to unexpected displays of emotions (she had rolled her eyes when he told her as much last week). But to his surprise, it was he who was responsible for the entire Sandbox community whispering and pointing at them whenever they walk by.

They had been happily ensconced in their bubble that weekend, with just the two of them in his apartment. But come Monday, they agreed that it was better to keep things quiet, at least until they have a few weeks under their belt. Jipyeong agreed, mostly because he’d rather have this new relationship be just the two of them for a while longer. He was still getting used to the idea that he could now hold her hand and kiss her whenever he wanted, and he’d rather not have to suffer through everyone’s knowing glances at work. So that first week, they acted like normal, though he couldn’t stop himself from smiling ridiculously wide anytime he was near her. Come week two, they decided to be more daring - her sneaking a kiss before a meeting while it was just the two of them in the conference room and him insisting that she attend this  _ very important lunch meeting  _ with him off-site.

They broke their streak when Dong Cheon - sweet, kind assistant that he was - had mentioned off-hand that he needed to pass documents over to Dalmi. The two of them had been walking down the hall, returning from a meeting. Jipyeong was typing an email while Dong Cheon prattled off about how this could change a lot of things for Cheongmyeong and that he just needed to have Dalmi review the document immediately so they could meet tomorrow morning to discuss. Without looking up, Jipyeong had said, “I’ll bring it home,” which made his assistant inquire as to why Jipyeong would take home a document that is meant for Dalmi. Still engrossed in his email, Jipyeong had answered, “She’s at my house.” It took him a few silent moments to realize what he had done and by then, the knowing grin on Dong Cheon’s face had grown annoyingly wide.

When he came home that night, Dalmi worked away on his dining table - they’ve been marathoning Game of Thrones and had planned to watch another episode tonight - and upon seeing the guilty look he was sporting, she immediately knew.

“What did you do?” she asked, more amused than anything else.

He thought he had a great poker face, but apparently not when it came to Halmeoni and Dalmi.

“Dong Cheon knows.”

She furrowed her brows, “What did you say?”

After he explained what had happened, she looked horrified and for the first time that night, he felt properly  _ properly  _ guilty.

“What is he gonna think of me?”

He hadn’t considered this, but he quickly responded, “We’re both adults and we can do whatever we want.”

“Are we gonna be okay?” she asked after a moment.

He nodded, smiling as he kissed the crown of her head, “Of course.”

He learned very quickly, however, that it was not as easy as he thought. For one, everyone seemed to already know that they were together by 8:00 AM the next day. As he stepped out of the elevator, he was greeted by Boss Lady who smiled knowingly she asked how he was doing before asking, “And how is Cheongmyeong Company?” He detected a certain tone in her voice, which told him that she, somehow, already knew too.

By the time he reached his office, his employees were not being covert in the grins and smirks they sent his way. He wanted to walk over to Dalmi’s office to talk about this with her but then realized that it would just feed the gossip fodder. So he stayed seated, trying his best to block out the glances.

There was also the matter of Samsan Tech, which… at his insistence… Cheongmyeong should pursue. Even though he found it incredibly sweet of Dalmi that she’d rather look for someone else, he told her that he’ll deal with his own feelings and that it would truly be foolish to not hire them.

This meant that he had to take a few deep breaths and give himself pep talks about having to see Nam Dosan regularly again, which he wasn’t willing to admit to be quite difficult on his frail sense of security in the newfound relationship. Thankfully, his girlfriend - he still couldn’t believe that he could refer to her as that now - seemed to be sure enough for both of them, always sending him the brightest smile whenever he’s around. But still… it would be a lie to say that the chatter about their love triangle didn’t bother him.

“How was it?” he asked cautiously later that night when they were en route to her house for their Friday night dinner. Today was the first official day that the three engineers worked at Cheongmyeong.

From the corner of his eyes, he saw her shrug. “It went well. Yongsan seems to be in charge of the team now. And he’s doing a great job,” her voice was even, completely devoid of any emotions, which made him  _ more  _ nervous.

“Hmm…” he replied.

“What?” she asked, her voice pointed.

He never could hide much from her, so he pursed his lips, trying to organize his words to minimize the insecurity peppering his thoughts, “I’m glad it went well.”

“Ugh,” she groaned, “This is why I didn’t want to talk about work with you. You get weird.”

“I do not.”

She rolled her eyes, “This is precisely why I’m worried about everyone knowing we’re together.”

“How does that change anything? You would still have to work with those guys, regardless of whether people know we’re together or not.”

“True,” she sighed, conceding to his logic. “I just don’t want you to worry,” she said, her voice small and laced with worry  _ for him. _

“I… I’ll get over it,” he hated how his voice came out so strained.

She sighed, taking his free hand in hers, holding it to her chest, “I chose you, okay? I’m choosing you and I will always choose you.” She turned to face the road ahead, still holding his hand as if she hadn’t just said the most comforting words that he has ever heard.  The dimples appeared voluntarily just as it always does when it came to her.


	14. Loose Ends, Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Christmas party and a broken heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short little drabble to celebrate the season.

When they arrived at the party, the room was buzzing with conversations and vaguely jazzy music from the stereo. It was Saha and Chulsan’s annual Christmas party - the couple had started organizing these things two years ago. Dalmi and Jipyeong placed their gifts at the designated table and crossed the room to greet the hosts. It wasn’t necessarily surprising to find out that Saha was wealthy, but it had been quite an experience to walk into her house for the first time at last year’s party. Suffice to say, Saha truly did not need Samsan Tech or Sandbox to make a living.

They made their way to one of the empty sofas and Jipyeong sat down, relieved to not have to be standing in a room full of either lawyers (not his favorite people) or people from Sandbox (highly uncomfortable given his position there). Dalmi sat to his left as she animatedly conversed with someone from accounting while he wondered how much longer he needed to stay there. It’s not that he hated these people - he was somewhere between neutral and okay with all of them - but parties just always made him nervous, especially ones with a strictly social purpose like this one. Give him a networking party and he’d charm the pants off of everyone, but give him a room full of people who had been the receiving end of his indifferent or cold stare, and he’d rather jump off a cliff. 

He was grateful when Chulsan came over and handed him a slice of cake before running off to greet another guest. He quickly dug into it, grateful for something to occupy himself. “Remember what the dentist said,” she whispered, taking the fork from his hand to grab a bite.

He groaned, “I knew I shouldn’t have let you come.”

She giggled, taking more bites from the cake, “I’m just trying to help you stick to the guidelines provided by your very scary dentist.”

He frowned, eyeing the fork that she placed on the platter before grabbing it. “He didn’t say anything about cake,” he took a bite.

“He said you had a worrying amount of cavities.”

Now he was pouting, which made her smile even wider. She fed him another bite of the admittedly delicious chocolate hazelnut and rum cake as she made a mental note to ask Saha about the bakery so she could buy one for his birthday. Yongsan chose that moment to come over and let out a very loud groan which drew several eyes to them. “Do you have to be this cute in front of me?” he plopped down on the empty space to Dalmi’s left.

“You can always sit somewhere else,” Jipyeong retorted.

“Hush,” she chastised him before turning to Yongsan, “Where’s your date? I thought you were bringing Jiwon.”

He shook his head sadly, “She broke up with me.”

“I’m so sorry,” Dalmi said at the same time as Jipyeong said, “On the day before Christmas?”

“That’s why - please have mercy. Spare me the lovey-dovey couple thing,” he whined.

Dalmi and Jipyeong exchanged looks for a moment before Yongsan interrupted, “That! Stop that couple telepathy thing that you two always do.”

“What are you talking about?” Jipyeong scoffed.

“You know - when you guys talk to each other without saying anything. Conversing with your eyes.”

“Those books Dalmi likes to read talked about undressing with one’s eyes, but not talking.” This earned him a slap on the thigh from his girlfriend who was clearly unhappy that he had announced to everyone that she indulged in the occasional romance novels in her spare time.

“Either way, stop it. I’m miserable and heartbroken,” Yongsan deflated further onto the sofa, “Chulsan and Saha being couple-y, I have to deal with since this is  _ their  _ party, but you two…”

Dalmi turned to look at him and he understood what Yongsan meant when he said talking with the eyes because he could tell that Dalmi was asking him to help. Begrudgingly, he sighed and stood up, “Pojangmacha around the corner. Sound good?” he asked Yongsan who nodded gratefully and followed him out the door. He knew that the only thing a guy who just had just heart broken was soju - lots and lots of them.

Many many hours later, after he successfully deposited Yongsan in the taxi cab, he pressed one on his speed dial as he walked back to his apartment.

When she picked up, he immediately said, “You owe me.”

She laughed, “I’ll make it up to you. I’ll make you lunch.”

“I thought the goal is to thank me after leaving a party to drink with your colleague.”

He heard the rustle of her snuggling deeper into her bed, which sent a pang of envy down his chest - what he wouldn’t do to be right there with her. “Ha ha, yes my cooking is horrible,” she said, “But really. Thank you for doing that. You’re a good man, Han Jipyeong.”

He smiled as he entered his living room, turning on the light. The Christmas decorations greeted him and he took in how much of this would not have happened without the woman he was currently on the phone with. In the course of the past year, so much of his life has changed because of her. She added color to his life - literally and figuratively.

“You’re coming over tomorrow, right?” she said in between a yawn. He glanced at the clock which indicated 01:00 AM.

“Yes.”

“I had to move the gifts to my room because Halmeoni kept trying to peek,” the sleepiness in her voice was palpable.

He laughed, “Not at all surprised by that.”

“Be here at 08:00 AM, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good night, Good Boy.”

“Good night.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Christmas friends!


	15. Loose Ends, Part III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone in the comments asked about the black box and another asked about an NYE-themed story, so here it is - enjoy!

It’s their first New Year’s Eve together and Jipyeong wanted nothing more than to go out with a bang, so he did the works - or at least, he _prepared_ for the works. He was quite proud of himself for having booked a room at the fanciest hotel in Seoul with the clearest view of the firework show that would usher in the new year. Even Dong Cheon gave him a thumbs up when the guy saw the reservation email. He wanted the evening to be absolutely perfect given the year that they have just had.

Cheongmyeong had successfully passed the test for their self-driving AI and had been working with Hyundai to launch Korea’s first-ever self-driving car. So the entire team had worked themselves to the bone to prepare for the Lunar New Year launch date. Now that he was towards the end of his second year as a director in SH Venture Capital, he had more companies in his portfolio and he was starting to get overwhelmed by the amount of overseeing he had to do. He could count with his fingers the number of times he was able to go home at 05:00 pm in the past six months. Suffice to say, he wanted - _needed_ \- this upcoming New Year’s Eve to be the perfect three-day staycation for him and his girlfriend where they could just unwind and relax. They deserved as much.

But of course, just like most things in his life, nothing had gone according to plan.

“I’m sorry...”

He grimaced at the sight of red-nosed and puffy-eyed Dalmi who greeted him at the door. It was December 31st and they should be checking into their suite overlooking Han River, but instead, he was in Dalmi’s house with a takeout of _gukbap_ from the local soup joint that they love.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, unable to stop himself from placing his hand on her cheek which ran incredibly warm.

“Terrible,” she answered as she leaned into his touch and sighed, appreciating the coldness from his hand.

He chuckled. Dalmi was a force to be reckoned with and there were so few people that worked as hard as her. So few people matched his workaholic tendencies and to see her like this was quite endearing.

When she took a step forward and burrowed her face on his sweater, his _gukbap_ -less arm wrapped around hers automatically, pulling her closer to his torso. “Hmm… cold,” she murmured and he grinned, rubbing her shoulder affectionately.

“Yah! You two! Do you want to get sick? What are you doing outside?” Halmeoni’s voice jolted them out of their little bubble and he laughed. He followed her in, toeing off his shoes and slipping into his designated house slipper (the bright pink one, naturally), and heard Halmeoni still grumble about ‘love making people stupid’ and how ‘they could just get sick together and die.’ Dalmi, on the other hand, beelined straight to the mass of blankets that was once the sofa, which was littered with used tissues. He went to the kitchen to place the plastic bag on the table.

“She has been sitting in front of the TV since last night. Can you believe her? I told her that she needs to sleep in her room and stop spreading her germs everywhere but she doesn’t listen,” Halmeoni complained as her fingers moved in lightning speed to knit what appeared to be a very big scarf (or maybe a blanket? He’ll ask Dalmi later to confirm). Her eyesight had deteriorated to the point where she was no longer allowed to be cooking without supervision (that conversation had not been an easy one) and since then, she had taken up knitting at the suggestion of Dosan who was happy to have a friend.

In response, he chuckled as he poured the _gukbap_ into three bowls. “She’s not feeling well, Halmeoni,” he said, placing a steaming bowl of rice and soup in front of Halmeoni who scoffed very loudly. “Of course you’d say that. Love has made you immune to that girl’s antics,” she said, “But it will not make you immune to a virus.”

Dalmi sat next to Jipyeong, eyes barely open, “Halmeoni, you need to be nicer. I’m sick.”

“Why should I be nice to you? I told you not to work too much. You’re a CEO now, you have money. Doesn’t that mean you’re your own boss? You are a terrible boss.”

He reached out to rub Dalmi’s back gently, smiling at the very familiar exchange between the two most important people in his life. “Stop nagging. Eat the soup before it gets cold,” he ordered, trying to match Halmeoni’s gruff tone.

An hour later, he was on the floor, legs outstretched with Dalmi lying on the sofa behind him, her legs on Halmeoni’s lap. He could feel her play with the tags of his sweater absentmindedly, which made him smile.

She was quite the touchy one, he had learned in the course of their 7-month relationship, always needing to be connected with him in one way or the other whether it be just poking his hand with her index finger or their knees touching under the table during meetings. Never having anyone be this affectionate with him, it took a while for him to get used to her squeezing his shoulder as she walked by, her slipping her foot under his legs when they’re lounging on the sofa and other small gestures that had made him jump in surprise. But over time, he’s grown accustomed to it that he found himself unconsciously looking for her too - placing his hand on her lower back when they stand side by side, twirling the ends of her hair… It was why he was grateful that their relationship was made known to everyone in Sandbox fairly early on because it meant that they didn’t have to hide so much of their relationship.

It was 11:30 when he returned to the living room after tucking Halmeoni to bed. Dalmi was still wide awake, courtesy of the many naps she had during the day, though he could see her eyes droop low, blinking slowly to the festivities in Times Square that was displayed on the TV. He sat down, placing her legs on his lap before his hand settled on her waist, his thumb moving slowly over her flannel pajama pants. “Do you want to head to bed too?” he asked when he saw her eyes stay shut for a few seconds longer than before.

Instead of answering, she sat up and maneuvered herself so that she was sitting down, snuggling into his side as she pulled his arm so that it wrapped around her. “In a little bit,” he heard her say.

After moments of silence and a lot of pondering on his part, he asked, “Do you want your gift now?” 

“What gift?”

“Your New Year’s gift.”

She looked up from his chest, “That’s not a thing.”

He probably should’ve waited a better moment but somehow... with her snuggled against his side, cheeks and nose red from a brutal cold… it felt right. So he got up (Dalmi groaned when he made a move to disentangle himself from her), went to the guest room where his things were stowed, and returned a few moments later.

Her eyes widened at the sight of the black rectangular box in his hand. She was sitting up fully now, her legs crossed and the blanket scattered across the floor and sofa.

“Is that…” her voice was hoarse.

He smiled, feeling the way his dimples were on full display. He sat next to her and opened the box, and the breath of relief that came out of Dalmi at the sight of the content made him furrow his brows. It took a few moments for it to finally dawn on him that she may have expected something entirely different. His cheeks reddened immediately reddened at the realization and he stuttered, “Oh… did you think…”

“Yes but I’m glad it isn’t,” she answered which made him relieved before growing nervous at the other implication. She seemed to have noticed the burgeoning thought, so she placed her hand over his reassuringly, “Not because I want to! I do! But just… not now.”

“I love you very very much but I want to be at a better place with my work-life balance before I marry you,” she continued, “I don’t want us to be a married couple who spends all of their time at the office. We both spend a ridiculous amount of time with our jobs, which is why I love us so much. But I think we’re at a point where our work needs our utmost focus. And I want to have kids too. Two at least. And I want to make sure we’re ready for that too. I want our kids to be raised by us and only us, no nannies and very minimal daycare and…”

Dalmi stuttered to a stop when she noticed the wide, dimple-y smile that Jipyeong was sporting. 

“What?” she asked, her doe eyes staring up at his bright, shining ones.

“I love you too.”

He wasn’t sure if it was her cold but her cheeks flushed, probably not dissimilar to the pink tinge on _his_ cheeks. He didn’t care though, leaning over to kiss her.

“I just wanted to give you a gift - I didn’t mean to scare you or freak you out,” he explained as he gestured to the opened box in his hand. It was only then that she had a proper look at the gift. Inside was a rose gold necklace with a simple paper origami sailboat pendant. “I love it,” she whispered.

After he helped her put on the necklace, she twirled her pendant that was resting on her sternum, staring at it with quiet glee. “Thank you,” she said before kissing him, “And happy new year,” she added when they broke apart, gesturing to the confetti displayed on the TV. They had missed their first countdown together, but he smiled in response, maneuvering them so she was snuggled against his side once more, his arms wrapped around her shoulder.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything,” she murmured sleepily.

“You did.”

She looked up, confused, “What did I give you?”

“You probably gave me that cold.”

She winced, “I’m a terrible terrible girlfriend,” resting her head on his chest once more.

“Nope. The best since you love me very very much,” he could not stop the grin from manifesting fully on his face.

“You are never going to let me forget that, will you?”

“Never. I will remind you every time you complain about accompanying me to Chuncheon.”

“There are _dalkgalbi_ restaurants here that are just as good!”

“Doesn’t matter. You’ll go with me anyway since you love me _very very much,_ ” he teased.

She groaned into his shirt while he laughed heartily.

Even though this was not what he had in mind when thinking about their first New Year’s Eve together, this was worlds better than anything he could have ever planned because nothing, he realized, could come as close to perfection as this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have big definitive plans for this - mostly just writing whatever Dalmi x Jipyeong fic I have in me. So if you have any requests for future 'Loose Ends' updates, feel free to leave them in the comments. :)


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